Am I The Only Male Tenant Here?

Tomoko was leaning against the wall with that dazed, sultry expression that made my knees weak, but it wasn't her face that had short-circuited my brain.

Tomoko was leaning against the wall with that dazed, sultry expression that made my knees weak, but it wasn't her face that had short-circuited my nervous system.

This is it. This is how I die. Death by visual overload.

What she was wearing—or barely wearing—could only be described as a "battle suit" in the most literal sense. Because this outfit was definitely going to be the death of me.

The delicate white tulle draped over her body like it had been designed by angels with very specific ideas about temptation. The upper portion featured a fitted design that emphasized her already slender waist, making it look impossibly tiny while simultaneously showcasing the generous curves above.

The engineering involved in this garment must be extraordinary. How does it provide support while looking like it's defying gravity?

Her perfect hourglass silhouette was on full display—every curve flowing seamlessly from her emphasized waist down to her full, rounded hips. The lower portion was adorned with intricate lace patterns that somehow managed to be both delicate and bold.

And those ties. Those thin little strings on either side of her waist. One gentle pull and...

But the white stockings were what nearly finished me off completely. They extended all the way up to her thighs, wrapping around her long, toned legs like a second skin. The contrast between the opaque white fabric and the hints of smooth, pale skin visible through the sheer material was absolutely lethal.

I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Could barely remember to blink as my burning gaze traced every inch of her incredible form.

Under my intense scrutiny, Tomoko's cheeks flushed that beautiful pink that made her look even more stunning. She lowered her head shyly, bringing her slender fingers up to cover her mouth while her perfect white teeth caught her lower lip in the most unconsciously seductive gesture I'd ever witnessed.

Her legs shifted slightly, pressing together in a way that made the stockings produce the faintest whisper of fabric against fabric. Under the warm room lighting, her mature feminine charm was amplified to absolutely devastating levels.

My throat worked convulsively as I tried to remember how to form words, but nothing came out except strangled breathing.

"So... Sousuke-kun..." her voice was like melted honey, warm and sweet and absolutely intoxicating, "how was it... did you like it?"

Like it? LIKE IT? 'Like' doesn't even begin to cover what I'm feeling right now.

"Too... too perfect... Tomoko..." I finally managed to croak out, my voice barely recognizable.

It took several more seconds of concerted effort before I could force my brain to form coherent thoughts again.

"Tomoko, did you buy this recently?" I asked, wondering how something this devastatingly beautiful had been hiding in her wardrobe without my knowledge.

"This... is a special gift prepared to celebrate your recovery, Sousuke-kun," she replied with that charming smile that made my chest tight.

The maturity and thoughtfulness behind the gesture hit me like a truck. This wasn't some spontaneous decision—she'd planned this, considered what would make me happiest, and executed it perfectly.

Mature women really are on another level. No guessing games, no subtle hints that I might misinterpret. She knows exactly what she wants and exactly what I want, and she's confident enough to act on it.

The aura of barely controlled desire radiating from me must have been palpable, because Tomoko visibly trembled as I finally found the strength to stand and move toward her.

My hands found her waist, and the soft gasp she made was like music.

"Sou... Sousuke-kun..." she started to say something, but whatever words she'd planned were lost as our lips crashed together.